


Tanyth and Sa'ven

by Dubious_Literature



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Play, Begging, Bondage, Chastity Device, Dildos, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Elves, Emetophilia, Fluff and Humor, Gay Sex, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Magic, Moaning, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Denial, Porn With Plot, Restraints, Sex Magic, Shameless Smut, Vibrators, gagging, ropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dubious_Literature/pseuds/Dubious_Literature
Summary: Sa'ven the northern elf is the archer in his adventuring party. His party's mage and fighter are decent enough friends, but it's the bard that really does it for him. After Tanyth, the dashing forest elf, puts Sa'ven in a chastity cage, the two spend an evening together at the tavern, doing...well, really gay, sexy elf things.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	Tanyth and Sa'ven

**Author's Note:**

> **AUTHORS NOTE: This work was posted many moons ago under a different account. The work was later deleted as I did not want my friends or coworkers reading my awful smutty emeto fiction. If you've seen this before somewhere here on A03, then I assure you it was me; you can confirm on said user's profile/bio.**
> 
> If you have a request for a story, hit me up. I'll do my best to get around to it. You will be credited for the idea and the story will be dedicated to you. For a list of things I won't write about, please see my profile. I love a challenge, so don't be shy! Send your creative ideas my way!

As soon as the four of us entered the clearing, we soiled our drawers. Okay, not really. But there _was_ a giant dragon sitting right there in the open. She gave us this look, the kind of look that I gave to Tanyth whenever he drew my attention away from a good book. _Excuse me, do you **mind?!**_ I almost considered backing away slowly, encouraging the others to follow suit. It was a moot point though.

Her eyes were already locked on us. Too late to back out now. As frightening as she was, she sure was pretty, bronze scales glinting in the morning light. Her eyes were these big, orange ovals with black slits that constricted as she sized us up. The old girl roared so loud that even I shuddered, and I averaged two, two and a half facial expressions a day. It’s not that I didn’t have emotions, mind you, I just wasn’t very expressive; the others always joked that my bright, yellow eyes were dead inside. The fuck? I was just introverted. Leave a poor, dark-elf ranger alone, gods.

Once her roar simmered into a low rumble reminiscent of stew gurgling over an open stove, Tanyth – the 6 to my 3 in our diamond-shaped fighting stance – swallowed hard. “Okay. That’s a dragon.” An exaggerated frown formed over the wood elf’s tan skin. 

“You think?” chided Bryce, our dashing, blond front-man. He held his position, drawing his sword and shield.

Trixie, our only female and mage companion, panicked and squealed “eat shit dragon!” from the back of our formation. She did that often, shouting blasphemy, curses, and all manners of idiotic insults under pressure. It’s what got her kicked out of the Circle of Runecraft, along with that town we found her sloshed in. She was a spritely little shit, though most nineteen year olds are.

The dragon lifted its head. This was it. It was going to blast us with its fire. Or…wait, what kind of dragon was this? Bryce would know. He may not have been formally educated in draconology, but he was an avid hobbyist. He was smarter than those “educated” louts at those human colleges, anyway.

“What are we dealing with?” I asked the former knight. I hadn’t spoken that many words in two days. Shit. Maybe I did have a problem.

“Look at her face!” he beamed. “See that diamond shape? She spits acid!”

“Stop sounding excited!” wailed Trixie. “This isn’t exciting! It’s awful! You’re awful!”

Tanyth gave a nervous chuckle. “Ah, look. She’s closing in. Delightful.”

Between Bryce’s weird dragon thing, Tanyth’s slapstick, and Trixie’s complete lack of combat skill, I was surprised the four of us had lasted as long as we had as a group. At least Bryce and I had some experience. As I said, he was a former knight, and I was a sharpshooter. Trixie and Tanyth though? Please. Trixie was young and could only cast a proper ice spell when she was chilling her drink, and Tanyth? Tanyth was a thief. A charlatan. And I think a prostitute at one point.

Tanyth had somewhat androgynous features like lush lips and long eyelashes, but had a taut, lean body and square jaw. His hair was a darker shade of brown than his skin, complexion reminiscent of a light cup of coffee with a cinnamon stick to stir it with. He even smelled like cinnamon. And leather, and cloves, and sometimes sweat. 

The dragon screeched and came barreling toward us. I didn’t want to fight a dragon. I wanted to take off the chastity cage that Tanyth had locked me inside of yesterday. The cage may have only been present for a day, but I hadn’t cum in three. My balls were left swollen and aching, cock filling out the cage whenever I thought of all of the things I could do to get off…especially when those things involved Tanyth, who enjoyed denying me to the point of misery.

We started screwing around about a month ago, innocent things at first, some flirting, some grinding, some anal…but after a trip to a bustling town (the one we plucked Trixie from) Tanyth opted to do a little “shopping.” Now, our backpack was filled with toys; torture implements - - same difference.

But you know, there was a dragon about to eat me, so I was going to go ahead and deal with that, first. I drew my longbow. Bryce stood his ground with his blade, Tanyth revealed his crossbow, and the sounds of ice spells crackled like sharp winter behind me. I inhaled, nocked and arrow, and fired. And then…

I groaned and opened my golden eyes. A flurry of white hair was splayed across my eyes and mouth. I sputtered and flicked my long locks away. What happened?

As if to answer, Tanyth came bounding up to me. “Holy shit Sa’ven!” He was the only one who pronounced my name properly. Everyone else said Sven. At least humans did. Sure it was close, but there was another half-syllable in there. I dunno, humans always complained about elvish being tricky. At any rate, Tanyth knelt down next to me with a horrified glance. Uh oh. What happened? Why had I been knocked unconscious? Why was I in pain? Suddenly, his expression broke, and he erupted into a fit of laughter, that big, wide smirk on his face, dark eyes warm like cocoa. 

“What?” I grumbled, my voice substantially deeper and hoarser than his own. Going by voice alone, he could have passed for any gender.

“The dragon…she…” he snickered. 

“She what? What happened to her?”

“Oh, she’s quite dead thanks to your well-placed arrow.”

“It landed?”

“Aye. Right into that pretty pumpkin of an eyeball. Screeched like hell, she did, and took a vicious swipe at you. And uh…at your trousers.” I sat up onto my elbows with a groan. “Easy,” whispered Tanyth, supporting my back with a firm hand.

My leather armor squelched under my own weight. I glanced down at my crotch. The first thing I noticed was Trixie positioned on the ground at my feet, attempting to heal some gashes on my legs. They started at my thighs and extended from one leg to the other diagonally across my knees. Ouch. That dragon must have been quick if I hadn’t sidestepped in time. Speed was sort of my thing.

Trixie sucked at healing magic. Still, it was better than nothing. (I hoped. I dunno, sometimes she really botched her spells.) I swallowed and tried to ignore the prickling pain of the regeneration spell against my deep and bloody wounds. That’s when I realized what Tanyth had been laughing at.

My pants had been ripped clean off. And at the request of my dear fuckbuddy and bardic partner, I refrained from putting on smallclothes that morning. Now, my chambered cock laid across my thigh for all to see. 

Why couldn’t the dragon have just finished me off, eh? Gods only know Tanyth never did. I leaned my head back onto the ground and mused, pondering the creative methods one could use to commit suicide while lying on his back, injured.

I glanced backward at an upside-down world. Bryce was a few paces back looking awkward. Oh yeah. He saw my dick. Look at his face. He was mortified. It looked like the dragon got a few hits in on Bryce, too, a shiner on his cheekbone and a bloody nose to boot. He gave me a sideways glance. We locked eyes. Bryce then cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head before walking off into the forest. I wondered if he would ever return. If it had been Bryce in my position, cock muzzled like a rabid dog, I probably would have found a nice, tall cliff to leap from. It beat the alternative: socializing with him again. I could only imagine that’s what he was feeling toward me.

That evening, the four of us relaxed at the tavern, me in my fresh pair of pants and the others in their usual attire. Trixie and Bryce hadn’t made eye contact with me all day. How could I blame them? Their silent, strong type had revealed that he was actually the bard’s little bitch boy. Plot twist much?

I took a long drink of my ale trying to ignore the dull pain in my legs. Bryce was a good man, letting me lean on him during the walk over. I’m sure he wanted to die at least half as much as I did from sheer mortification alone. Now he was perched at the bar with Trixie. They could not have been more different – male and female, 19 and 33, mage and knight, short and tall – and yet they still had one thing in common: they were huge flirts. They were each currently invested in vying for the affections of the fiery-haired wench.

“Hoy hoy!” Tanyth plopped down across from me at the farthest table in the darkest corner; somewhere I could recharge. “Here’s another ale,” he said, setting down a stein. I nodded politely. “How are you feeling, Sa’ven?”

Not well, to be frank, but I didn’t tell him that. First of all, there was the impending need to cum. It was frustrating as all hell. Of course that was obscured by the dull pain in my legs. Trixie had actually done a decent job of healing me (decent for Trixie, anyway). But while her spells were improving, her strength was evocation, not regeneration, and my legs still felt awful. The pain combined with the ale I had just guzzled down weren’t agreeing with me. 

I gave an obsequious grunt: not happy, but not totally miserable either, glad to be back to safety but a little tired, and at worst, gassy.

“What’s wrong? Gas?”

I almost smiled. Leave it to Tanyth to draw that – and only that – from my single noise. Against my better judgment, I finished off my mug and set to work on the one Tanyth had brought me. The extroverted man wasn’t a fan of sitting in silence, but he did for a while if only to entertain my preference in doing so.

I observed him with weary eyes. He brushed back his brunette hair and tipped his stein back. He was handsome, that elf. I liked his road leathers, too. Mine were dark gray, not too expensive, but they protected me well enough. Tanyth’s though? _Far_ more intricate than my own. He reminded me of autumn. His skin had the complexion of spice, golden and sun-kissed with freckles. His dark eyes contrasted against his red-stained leather. It was this dark, blood-red, almost like cherry wood. Vivid, bronze emblems not unsimilar to the coloration of the late dragon were pinned to his hauberk and pauldrons, chains dangling from each shoulder and attached to the central piece on his chest. And then there was the thin, golden chain on his neck, and dangling from it, a small key.

Tanyth the bard: skilled in close quarters and ranged combat, with a pension for words, poetry, song, and a deep, deep passion for edging my cock so close to release that I was left begging, pleading, screaming. I shifted my weight. I was getting hard. 

“Did you sell the spoils?” I asked if only to distract myself from the building ache in my groin.

“Aye. Horns are _heavy_.”

“How many?” 

“Plucked all five off and left her corpse to rot in the woods.”

“How much?”

That wide grin was back on his face. “Twenty gold.”

I wasn’t so amused. After another chug of my ale, I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and said, “That’s a terrible bargain. Aren’t bards supposed to have silver tongues?”

“You’d know all about my tongue, wouldn’t you, sweet thing?” 

I glowered into my mug and sloshed the ale around. Yeah. Yeah, I guess I would. Asshole.

“Twenty gold, _per,_ ” he finally corrected. 

I glanced back up. “Twenty…per horn?” 

He nodded, grinning with his sharp canines. There was also a missing tooth near the back on the top row that one could only see when he beamed. Charming.

Tanyth pulled a coin purse practically out of thin air – how did he do that? Dexterous little shit – and tossed it onto the table. “Twenty-five gold, my lord. Eat, drink, and be merry.” 

I gave a wry chuckle, nodding politely and pocketing the velvet satchel. Moving my hips hurt and I gave an involuntary groan. Not a loud one, but enough that it caught my companion’s attention. I shook my head at him before he could address the issue. The dragon got a good hit in, one that left me with a headache and a pair of sliced legs and a dull throb in my back and hips. No point in dwelling; better to just move on and recover.

A shrill wail much like that of a cat in heat caught our attention. I was already facing the bar so I needn’t move, but Tanyth expended the effort to grab the back of his chair and pivot his waist around to see. Trixie was loudly explaining why the bar wench should take her home instead of Bryce. Bryce looked ready to forfeit if only to stop picturing Trixie going home with anyone. The redhead ended up saying something like, _why not both?_ As common a fantasy as a threesome was, the mage and the warrior exchange glances, raised their brows, and burst into laughter.

Tanyth came to face me again, his leathers and the chair squeaking under his weight. “Ha! Bryce and Trixie?”

I slammed back the rest of my ale and shook my head. “Just…no.”

“Right? Skeevy, that. Though we’re fine ones to talk.” Tanyth cocked his head to the side. “How’s your…” he nodded toward my crotch. 

I gave only a low rumble of a response. 

“Dying in there, eh? Good. I’m not done with you yet.” 

My hawk-like eyes narrowed. But gods damn I wanted him. My expression softened and I glanced down into my empty mug. “Tanyth…”

“Yyyesss?” He eased forward, elbows on the table.

I looked directly into his eyes. “Please.” I whispered. “I can’t stand it any longer.”

He smirked, tittered once, and said, “Come on, then. Wager you’ve earned it after this mess.”

Ordinarily I would have pushed myself harder to see how many days I could stand being denied. But Tanyth was right. I was feeling pretty awful and cumming sounded like bliss. I was so exhausted that part of me just wanted to lie down and cuddle with him and not get off at all, but the other part of me – you know, my dick – begged to differ.

Tanyth led me up the stairs. His room was on the third floor of the rickety inn. We left the noise of the tavern downstairs as Tanyth held open the door for me and allowed me inside, closing it behind himself. It was a loft room so it was small with a slanted, triangular ceiling, a singular bed, table, chair, and window leading onto the roof. Tanyth drew the curtains, spun around, and clapped his hands together.

“Right then. Off with your clothes.”

I did as he asked, sitting in the chair with another grunt and stripping off my leathers. First my boots, then my greaves. Piece by piece, I made a small pile on the ground while Tanyth pulled his traveler’s pack out from under his bed. It bulged. Our companions probably thought he was hoarding expensive loot to sell, but I knew better. 

I stripped down to nothing but the chastity cage while Tanyth pulled out a slew of toys, setting them on the table one by one. First, rope. Then a magically charged rod. Then a crop. Then a long, ovular, glass stone...a dildo. I couldn’t have been more ready to endure whatever he had in store for me.

“Onto the bed, yeah?” said Tanyth. I peeled myself out of the chair and knelt in the center of the bed. “Ooh, I like that. Kneel there just like that. Let me think. Hmm. What do I want to do to you?”

“Make me cum?”

Tanyth laughed that high, lilting laugh of his. He placed either of his soft but masculine hands across my sharp jaw and kissed my neck sweetly, tenderly. I tilted my head to the side with a soft sigh. His wily tongue traced its way up my pointed ear before he nibbled delicately on my cartilage. My aching hips stirred. They hurt, but the tug of his sharp teeth aroused me. 

“Sweet boy,” he cooed, gentle hands gliding down my throat, palm against my adam’s apple. I loved when he called me his boy. I was only thirty like Bryce, but Tanyth, though he looked our age, was nearly seventy. He hadn’t even reached half his life span, but still, he had quite a bit more experience than myself. “Did you just ask to cum?” 

Uh oh. “I…”

His grip tightened around my throat and I stifled a choke. “I haven’t even bound you yet. Do you truly find such neediness acceptable? Haven’t we talked about this before?”

“Y-y-y-”

I wanted to tell him yes, we have, I’m sorry Tanyth! It won’t happen again! Honest! But I couldn’t speak. He was clenching his strong fingers around my throat so hard I was sure there’d be bruises in the morning. I gasped and sputtered while Tanyth said, “You’ll beg when I tell you to beg, whore.” He clenched his hand around me one, final time before tossing me back onto the bed. I hacked and clawed at my throat, dick aching inside of the cage. “Now then!” he continued in his usual singsong voice, so different from that dark growl he wielded a moment ago, “Get back onto your knees and I’ll untangle this blasted rope. I swear, Sa’ven, rope, jewelry, it all gets tangled up as soon as you leave it inside your pack.”

I listened to him ramble, getting back onto my knees and waiting patiently. My dick was not so patient. I was hard and red inside of the cage. My head was turning purple, and don’t even get me started on the dark color of my balls. They formed a deep, blue plume beneath the cage whose coil extended about three inches outward and formed a dome over my head. I was so turned on that the head of my dick was spilling out of the bars. 

I watched in silent agony as Tanyth took his sweet time, sitting on the chair and unfurling the rope. Little hisses and curses spilled past his lips - - lips that I so desperately wanted to feel over my cock. “Blast it, stupid thing, come on…”

I thought about offering him a hand, but realized it was likely a ruse, that he was doing this on purpose to torture me. If I spoke up, he might decide to take even longer. If he knew how desperate I was to get down to business, he most certainly would. I licked my lips and knelt there, a little sweat running down my temple. 

“Got it!” he exclaimed. Thank _gods._ “Yep! There’s the first knot! Just three more to go.” He glanced up with a shit-eating grin and oooh I swear I could have punched that fucker square in the jaw. 

I sighed and continued to watch him. He hated when I looked away. He would always end up clutching my chin and jerking my head around to face him. I tried to focus on my breathing, quelling the aches and pains both in my groin and in the rest of my body, but the longer my companion took, the worse it became. 

Seriously. It was taking minutes. Ten, fifteen, maybe. And I was starting to feel rather unwell. At first the pain was bearable, aches and what-have-yous from being knocked around by the dragon, but the longer I knelt there, the more I realized I’d drank far too much ale for comfort. It came in small ripples, swells of indigestion I tried to ignore. I was certain it would pass as soon as dipshit touched me. But gods, he was still taking his time. Just as Tanyth finished untying that final knot, I turned my head and released a small, silent belch that relieved me to a degree.

“Oi!” he snatched my chin and made me face him as I suspected he might. “Hold still, now. And if it’s too loose or too tight just say the magic word.”

“Yes, Tanyth.” 

He ruffled my hair. “Good boy. Arms over your head, yeah?” 

I did as he asked, hoisting my arms in the air. Tanyth stood on the bed, tying the ropes around my wrists and actually going so far as to string them up over the rafters so that my arms were stretched above my head. It was an enticing choice, I had to confess: forced onto my knees with hardly any upper body control.

He went about tightening loose ends. A tug here, a pull there. Meanwhile, that vile feeling came back, except now, it was rising into my chest. I really started wishing I hadn’t drank that second ale. And yet I was still so gods damned hard.

Tanyth jerked the rope to test its strength. It jostled me and I let out an involuntary, little groan. It wasn’t a particularly pleasurable one. I don’t think Tanyth knew the difference though, and I intended to keep it that way. If I could just get over the upset in my stomach…

“Impatient, are we?” chuckled Tanyth after I made the noise. 

“A bit.” A small white lie. I was impatient, that just wasn’t why I groaned. Honestly, I couldn’t decide whether I was more turned on or more uncomfortable.

Two seconds later, the hot, unexpected sting of the crop whipped across my bare ass with a burning passion. It caught me so off guard that I cried out “ahh!” and jerked my hips forward. Oh _fuck_ that stung. But I could hold out. I could.

Tanyth laughed that sweet laugh of his, bronze flesh illuminated by the hanging sconce, and said, “I love watching you lose control, Sa’ven.” He clutched my chin in one of his leather-gloved hands and drove the crop back against my ass with a loud clap. I gritted my teeth and quaked, feeling the lingering sting upon my flesh. My cock pulsed inside of the locked cage. Gods damn that felt good!

He did it again. An even louder clap erupted into my ears, white hot pain sizzling against my flesh. I shook, bowed my head, and said, “Thank you, Tanyth…”

“So polite this evening!” he beamed, letting go of my face and retreating around back of me. “Stick your rear out, love.” I bent over as best I could, ropes tugging at my sore arms. 

Tanyth slammed his open palm against my ass and squeezed, and in return, I gave a yelp. His nails dug into the mark of the crop, causing a hot, shooting pain to rocket across my flesh. Between the bruising his fingers were undoubtedly causing and the lingering sting of the crop, I shuddered. With it came a sensation I didn’t quite expect. That uncomfortable brick in my chest had rolled up into my throat. Once I realized my mouth was wet, my eyes widened. I quickly swallowed and coughed. “Oh…”

Tanyth chuckled and released his firm clutch, palm tracing across my ass before pressing a finger against my hole. He probed the outside of my asshole in a gentle, teasing way, allowing me a moment’s reprieve from the pain. 

That didn’t help. I mean, being teased definitely made me hard, but going from pure pain to a wave of gentle caress somehow made the sensation in my belly worse, like the first five minutes after setting foot on dry land after some rough sea-travel. My tongue felt wet again and I had to suppress another gag. A deep sound of discomfort came from my throat as I swallowed again. “Revasa’an,” I croaked, the elvish word for freedom - - our safe word.

Although he was behind me and out of sight, I knew his habits well enough to know his eyes widened. I’m sure my using our safe word was unexpected; we had done far kinkier things than simple spanking and assplay. The crop clattered to the floor and in a moment’s notice Tanyth was kneeling in front of me, leathered palms on my cheeks. “Sa’ven? We’sirith a’naan?”

My insides turned, skin prickling at Tanyth’s touch. Oh, gods. I did not feel well. _Sa’ven, are you alright?_ he had asked in elvish. “No,” I answered in common tongue.

I made pained little noises all the time when we played – such was the nature of our escapades – but now that he knew I was actually unwell, he put two and to together. He glanced at my middle. “A’nauvillen?”

I nodded. _Yes, my stomach is upset._ And then in a long string of butchered elvish (I grew up in a human city) I told him that I was about to ruin our evening, the sheets, or both.

Tanyth’s eyes lit up. Switching back to common, he said, “Oh, Sa’ven, you aren’t ruining anything.” He held my sides and pressed a kiss to my lips. His mouth was warm and made my own lips tingle blissfully. Also uncomfortably. That pressure against my mouth was not doing it for me.

I quickly jerked my head away before another wave could take me. “Sorry,” I grunted. Oof, there it was. There was the wave. A haggard noise came from my throat followed by the feeling of water in my mouth. I was going to be sick. For the time though, I did as I had done twice already and swallowed it back.

“Oh, love.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, compassion stirring in his eyes, warm and inviting like embers. “Can you hold tight for a spell? I’ll be back.”

Before I could stop him, he left the room and closed the door behind himself. I was sweating now, temples hot and wet. Part of me thought it might be better to clench my throat muscles and make myself sick if I could. Then maybe it’d all be over by the time he was back. Gods only knew I needed the relief. Still, I didn’t want to make a mess on his bed.

Then there was the matter of my cock. Despite my upset, I was still hard as a rock. I wasn’t sure how those two things went hand in hand, but I realized it wasn’t necessarily a turn-off, just a nasty roadblock. I knew I could continue to get off after I relieved myself; the real issue was that I didn’t want to disgust my companion.

It seemed to be a non-issue, because moments later, Tanyth returned with a chamber pot and closed the door behind himself yet again. I could not have been more embarrassed if I tried. “You’re shitting me.”

“And why should I be?” he asked.

“Tanyth.”

“Sa’ven,” he countered, and plopped the pot down on the bed in front of me. I dangled from the rope and narrowed my eyes at him. He shrugged. “What? You’ve gagged on me before.”

“Choking on one’s cock is not the same as suffering the wrath of overindulgence,” I argued.

“Isn’t it? It’s all about a lack of control, yes? The pain, the discomfort, the steeping ache of your balls…” He moved forward and placed his palms against my belly. I felt ill and bloated under his touch. “It must feel unbearable.” I wrinkled my nose in protest. Still, Tanyth started massaging my abdomen, gently at first, silky palms grazing my muscles. I took a deep breath and tried to revel in it instead of fighting it. I knew that if I told him to stop, he would; there was no fear of non-consent, just the impending fear of turning him off. As for me? I wouldn’t get turned off unless he was.

The touch of his hands made my cock jump. I swung from the ropes in silence, balls still taut outside of the chastity cage. How hedonistic did I have to be to actually indulge in this? Tanyth watched me with eager eyes, fingertips softly tracing over my belly. It felt so nice. In fact, I wasn’t sure I needed the chamber pot anymore. His touch was soothing, relaxing, peaceful. He kept it up for a time, my head lulling forward with a pleased sigh. Then, he began to massage, palms rolling against my muscles like he was giving a backrub. 

The attention was nice, but the constant flux of his hands was steering me back in the other direction. It was a strange combination of pleasure and discomfort. He pushed hard enough that my thoughts traveled back to my penis; what would it feel like if he took that key dangling from his pretty neck, unlocked me, and massaged my cock like that? On the other hand, he was aggravating my full belly and it didn’t feel good. A little gas brought the taste of ale back across my tongue, a taste that I didn’t care to experience again that night. I turned my head to the side and cinched my lips tight. 

“No no, that won’t do,” sang Tanyth, easing my head back over the chamber pot. He continued to give my belly attention. This time, he placed his fists just under my sternum and began to knead like a cat. “Relax, Sa’ven. It’s okay.”

His fists were pumping against me, digging into my middle like harsh waves against the shore. It coaxed a bit of bile into my throat. My mouth watered and I swallowed again. Oh, gods… And Tanyth refused to let up. I was completely under his spell, tied up and losing control. The next time he kneaded me, I shuddered. “I’m going to be ill…”

Tanyth just giggled and kept pushing his fists against my stomach until finally my mouth watered again. I knew that I couldn’t hold back forever. Besides, Tanyth – the kinky little shit he was – was enjoying himself, and it wasn’t like I wasn’t hard. This time, I bent over the pot and spit. I knew I would be sicker in a moment, but I wasn’t prepared for it to happen so fast. A hoarse retching noise erupted from my throat. I wasn’t properly sick yet, but a little dribble of spit fell from my lips onto the edge of the pot. My stomach churned and I made another guttural noise, but not even saliva came out this time.

The intense waves wouldn’t stop, and neither would my dry retches. It felt awful. I hovered over the pot, panting, desperately trying to find relief. Tanyth’s hands were getting me closer – at least I was sicker than I was before he started – but nothing was coming up. I was forced to kneel there enduring nausea with no actual way of ending it. My hard-on didn’t help matters. I felt humiliated and degraded, which somehow made everything better and worse at the same time. My cock could wait, though. First, I needed to get that poisonous swill out. 

After maybe the tenth or fifteenth attempt to vomit, able to conjure only miserable noises, Tanyth kissed my lips. I shivered and suppressed another retch as he did. “Poor thing,” he said, combing his fingers through my snowy locks. “You look so ill, love. Look at your clammy face.” He placed his fingers against my cheek. Their warmth stung. 

“I need to…” my belly hitched and another rumble came from my insides. I spat a little saliva into the pot but that was all. “…I need to throw up, Tanyth…”

He studied me the same way he studied some rough terrain on a battlefield: with a quizzical cock of his head and curious eyes. You could see the gears turning just by looking at him. Finally, he held his pointer finger in the air and said, “I’ve got just the thing. You’re going to hate me, you know.”

“Already do. Oh…” I trembled. I was so nauseous. Being strung up by my arms was no help. It was a wonder I hadn’t spewed my guts up yet.

The bed creaked behind me. Before I could question what was happening – not that I cared so long as it brought me relief – Tanyth’s arms wrapped around my middle. First, he started kneading me again, harder this time with more imperative little swells of his fists. After about thirty seconds I was able to spit a little more saliva into the bowl, but that’s all that came out. Then he squeezed my middle, his chest pressed against my back and his arms crushing my belly. It definitely intensified my upset, but still, nothing came from it. I could feel the nausea in my guts, in my throat, and in my jaw. I swallowed and groaned. Suddenly, he pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, said, “Let it out,” and jerked me into a tight, unbearable squeeze. 

Well, that did something alright. My eyes shot open and I instantly became dizzy. I think he knocked the wind out of me. An acidic gurgle wound its way up my throat and I leaned my head above the pot from my hanging position, spitting out the tiny, tiny bit of sick that had actually managed to come up. I think Tanyth was disappointed. So I was I, honestly. That was hardly anything. I was so sick, and I was having the damnedest time getting it out of my system.

“That’s alright,” purred Tanyth. He reached around and drew the pot closer. That’s when a familiar, glass object penetrated my lips. Ah, the ol’ dildo.

Tanyth had bought it at the city I mentioned earlier, in this high-end sex shop. That’s where he got most of his toys. That dildo had been through hell and back, entering every orifice either of us had to offer. Now, the polished, agate-colored cock was sliding past my tongue and down my throat. 

This wouldn’t have been the first time I defiled it in such a way. Before, though, I had only consumed water. I was more nervous this time considering my belly was full to bursting with ale. I was so bloated, so uncomfortable, even a little distended which I noticed when I glanced down at my lean figure. 

Tanyth’s spare hand reached around my middle and started rubbing me in circles while the glass cock slid across my tongue and coaxed a gurgle from my esophagus. This time I felt the bile rise up into my throat. I couldn’t get it all the way up though, not with the dildo blocking me. It felt awful. At that point, I needed relief in more ways than one. The glass dipped back across my tongue and down my throat. Head tilted back, I made a similar but louder noise. More bile. The next time it happened, I wasn’t going to be able to keep it down.

I did my best to keep my head poised above the pot, Tanyth still fucking my throat with the dark blue implement. Surely enough, the next time he molested me with its glossy surface, vomit surged up my throat. I puffed my cheeks out and coughed once before it erupted across the toy and Tanyth’s hand. He removed the dildo from my mouth. It was like uncorking a bottle of wine. Backed up sick gushed into the pot. 

So much of it was left over in my throat that its stringency turned my stomach. My first bout was followed by another rush of spew. This time it went on for seconds, three or more consecutive hitches dredging up a long, flowing waterfall of sick that drained into the pot. 

Meanwhile, Tanyth dropped the dildo onto the bed and used both his hands to rub my belly. I think he liked feeling my muscles contract when I heaved. 

Since my wrists were bound, I had no way of steadying myself or aiming my stream. I could feel an embarrassing bit of saliva dribble down my chin. Just the thought of having throw-up there made me want to be sick again. With absolutely no control, I let my head bob and I groaned, spitting into the pot, waiting for the next inevitable wave to overtake me. 

I didn’t need to wait long because Tanyth squeezed my middle again. This time, his cock collided with my ass. He was so hard, and he felt amazing grinding up on me like that despite my current state of unwellness. He rocked his hips against me over and over while blood rushed to my groin, and when his hands squeezed my middle again, I got sick.

My abs twitched violently under Tanyth’s hands as I continued to fill the pot for another ten or twenty seconds. He stroked my belly and occasionally pulled some hair out of my face, telling me, “There you go…it’s alright love…I’m sorry you don’t feel well.” Which was bullshit. I knew he was getting off on this.

Finally, I spit. My stomach ached, but I had achieved the much-needed relief I initially sought. Why more humans didn’t dabble in such things I’ll never understand; at least elves had the decency to do something exciting once in a blue moon.

“How do you feel?” asked Tanyth. 

I coughed, gave one more spit into the pot, and said, “Better.”

“Better…?” Tanyth tugged my hair. 

I gave a sharp moan, “Ah! Mm…” followed by a swell of my cock. “I feel much better now. Thank you, Tanyth.” 

He released my hair with a lilting, singsong laugh. “Glad to hear it.” He got up off the bed and walked over to the window, drawing back the curtains and sliding the pane open. He then doubled back around to snatch the disgusting pot.

I eyed him with caution. “This sort of thing doesn’t… _deter_ you?”

“And why should it? It’s just a bit of fresh ale. Perhaps if you’d eaten an entire seafood dinner. Imagine the mess that’d cause. Yeesh.”

I did imagine it. I hated, _loathed_ seafood. The thought alone of sicking up anything that came out of that gods-forsaken ocean just… 

“Pot.”

“Pardon?”

My mouth was wet again. The only thing I could do to stop from getting sick all over the bed was to clench my lips shut and catch the bile in my cheeks. Tanyth saw and turned heel, quickly tucking the pot under my chin. He barely made it in time. I dipped my head inside and the acoustics of my own mess splashing into the pot resounded in my ears, followed by a cough and a queasy groan. 

“All finished then?”

I nodded into the pot with a miserable and raw, “Yes, Tanyth…”

“My apologies, Sa’ven. I’d forgotten about your aversion.” He climbed out of the window, onto the roof and tossed the contents of the pot onto the ground below. I heard a splash outside which wasn’t a delightful noise, per se, though it was a bit funny.

I felt spent. Pale. Green, even, which made me wonder if I was teal considering my skin was naturally blue. 

Tanyth hopped back into the room, set down the pot, shut the window, and drew the curtains. “Well then. Arms feeling alright?” I nodded but didn’t speak, giving my stomach a moment to settle. “Excellent. Here. Drink some water.” He snagged his canteen from his pack, held it to my lips, and allowed me to drink. He then used a handkerchief to wipe up my sweat and the dribble around my lips, even splashing a little cool water on my forehead. 

Two sets of fingers touched my temples, massaging me in circular strokes. I let my head drop and purred, feeling the gentle tug of his fingertips against my skin. It soothed my aching head in seconds. His fingers traced up into my hair, nails grazing my scalp. I think I started falling asleep. 

When I opened my eyes, I felt tired and peaceful, save little bits of pain here and there - - my arms and legs, mostly. But at least my belly had settled. Wait, where was-

“Mgh!” I groaned. Intense vibrations erupted around my taint. It was that blasted rod of his, the one he got from the shop, about six, seven inches in length with a big, bulbous head.

Tanyth giggled from behind me. “Oh, sweet boy. Listen to you.” He pressed the smooth tip between my balls and asshole and ground it down in hard, repetitive motions. My dick was starting to fill out my chastity cage again. The vibrations were killing me. Did he seriously skip straight to the highest setting? That lout! Gods it was making me want to cum already…

I rocked my hips back. “T-tanyth…” 

As soon as I spoke his name, Tanyth took the rod away and I whimpered. Come on! It had been days! I just needed to cum! If I was willing to put a fucking cage over my cock and bow to his sick fetishes, why couldn’t I just cum?! I physically pulsated in the device, grinding my hips against nothing. 

Suddenly, I whimpered again, this time louder and deeper, my masculine voice reduced to this submissive, little mewl. My asshole clenched around his slick middle and index fingers and their sudden insertion into my anus. Tanyth pushed in deeper and deeper, and once he was all the way inside of me, began probing my prostate. 

“Mgghhh!” I complained, loud, desperate noises churning my throat. 

Tanyth reached around and grasped the front of my cage. I gasped. His thumb pushed past the bars and circled my slit, moving a little precum around over my thick, purple head. I watched in awe, in arousal, balls swollen and achy. I could already feel the release building. It had been building off and on for days, but now it was tenfold. 

“Poor, sweet thing,” he fussed, pressing against my prostate. I moaned. His thumb teased my slit. I moaned again. “How long have you been edging?”

“Three days, Tanyth…”

Tanyth tittered, musing, “Has it been? Oh, how the time has flown.” He moved the hand on my dick all the way down to my hard balls and gave them a few pats. I jerked my hips forward and trembled. “Tell me, Sa’ven, do you know why I don’t let you cum? Why do you think you’re locked up in that cage right now?”

I tried to answer, tried to focus past the torture. “Because I…I…” He patted at my balls with his left hand, refusing to give my prostate a break with the fingers on his right. “I…I…oh…ohhh!”

His pats were getting harder. I could hear his fingers slapping against me down there. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to suppress my orgasm. It was almost impossible. Every time his hand collided with my balls, every time he roused my sensitive spot, another wave of bliss ebbed at me, eating away at what little endurance I had left. “Answer me,” he commanded.

I shuddered, balls churning, and choked out: “You like to…ahhh…you like to control me…!!!”

“I do, my pet,” agreed Tanyth, making that point loud when he went from slapping my balls to massaging them outright. I was so swollen that I filled up his soft, roiling palm. “Are you having a hard time keeping control? It certainly appears that way…”

“Yes, Tanyth!” 

The next time his palm rolled against my balls, fingers darting against my gland, a drop of ejaculate bubbled out of my slit. He was forcing me too close. My cock – specifically my head – was dark and swollen, balls thick in his grasp. But it was his fingers disturbing my prostate that was really starting to get me there. Oh gods. There was more cum now. I watched in horror as my dick started to dribble. 

“Stop…” I gasped, clenching my abs and trying to hold back as he kneaded me. Of course ‘stop’ wasn’t the safe word and I knew it. I gritted my teeth and repeated myself. “Gods, Tanyth, stop, please…” He was starting to milk me. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I couldn’t.

Tanyth must have noticed because he chuckled and removed his fingers from my asshole. Their absence made me whine and absently thrust my hips. 

He picked up the rod again. It was vibrating in an instant. What was he going to do with it, I wondered? Whatever it was, I needed it and I needed it yesterday. I licked my lips, mouth dry, and said, “Can I beg now?”

He kissed my ear, reached around, and placed the bulbous head of the rod against the tip of my cock, stirring the milky pre that leaked out of my slit. “Yes. You may beg.”

“Ahhh! Yes! Please don’t stop! Thank you Tanyth!”

My cock, balls, my entire groin spasmed. Fuck fuck fuck fuck I was close. 

Tanyth spend the next couple of minutes edging me, tracing the rod along the swollen parts of my erection that spilled between the bars of the cage. He would swivel it around my slit and I’d groan, then he’d find a spot on the middle of my shaft and hold it there which would make me buck and moan. Soon I was sweating. My belly ached so badly from throwing up earlier, and presently, clenching my muscles to keep from cumming.

“Give me another reason. Why do you think I keep you locked up?” he said, pressing the vibrating rod against my sack. I shuddered and jerked my hips. I was there. Right there. I was pulsing. Straining. Why couldn’t I just cum already?!

“Because I deserve it, because I’m a whore!”

“You _are_ a whore,” he agreed, “and guess what whores get?” I swallowed hard. “Whores get cum onto. Would you like me to cum on you, whore?”

I nodded frantically, in part because the thought Tanyth getting off enticed me, but also because the sooner he came, the sooner he’d let me cum too. 

Tanyth took his hands and the rod away leaving me feeling lonely and absent and on fire. He then stood up beside me, pulling his length out of his fly, and began using the rod on himself instead. He was so beautiful. Not overly long, but quite thick, with tufts of brazen hair around his huge balls. He was hard as sin; I could already tell he wasn’t going to take long.

He took the rod and placed its head against his frenulum with a ragged groan. Tanyth jerked it in sweet, little circles, massaging his sack with one hand and stirring up his cock under the rod’s touch with the other. It started to get even harder, twitching and pulsing of its own volition.

He wasn’t even stroking himself, just letting his cock get tortured by the vibrations of the rod and the squeeze of his balls, quietly dishing out his own punishment. When he started gritting his teeth, I knew he was about to blow. Suddenly, three hard, ragged gasps burst from his lips. And then he stopped. Willed the rod off. Breathed. 

What was he doing? 

Tanyth took off his necklace – the key – and bent over, sliding it into the lock on my cage. It opened with a click and clattered to bed. My lips parted. He gave them a quick peck before reaching onto his thigh – his scabbard – and unsheathing his hunting knife. He shot me a wily smirk, and in two swift motions, cut each of my restraints. 

I collapsed onto my hands and panted, some spare rope still tied to my wrists. Oh gods. My arms hurt so bad. And I was so horny. Everything just… _ached!_

The wood elf placed a hand on my chest and eased me back onto my knees. He knelt in front of me in the same position, stroking his cock in a leather-bound hand, and a moment later, he was doing the same to me. Every time he pumped himself he pumped me in unison. Gods it felt good to break free from that damned cage! And every single touch of his was killing me. Blood was rushing to my groin, and within seconds, I was at full erection, over six inches of lust filling Tanyth’s hand. I knew there was no stopping it now. 

“I can’t last like this…” I confessed.

“You will,” he commanded.

There it was. I knew he wasn’t being nice. I whimpered and said, “Please, Tanyth…it…it aches so badly…I can’t…”

He kept pace, jerking me and himself off in perfect synchronicity. He was so hot. So fucking attractive. Stroking and stroking us closer to release while I was forced to hold back and thrum under his grasp.

I breathed. Closed my eyes. Suppressed it. 

Finally, he pulled my foreskin down, rousing my frenulum with his thumb. It was so, _so_ fucking good! Oh my gods! Oh my fucking gods! I couldn’t! I-

“Ah, ahhh, I’m going to…!” Tanyth let go of my dick a moment before release. I groaned and shuddered. Gods **damn** it!

He was pumping himself harder now, precum flowing down his shaft. That was one of my favorite things about him. It wasn’t a little drop on his tip, it was a stream, oozing down his length to warn him that he was getting close. It always trickled down the underside of his shaft, leaking onto his hand or his balls while he masturbated. 

“Please let me taste…” I begged. 

He smirked. Pretty laugh lines and dimples formed on his cheeks. “Permission granted. Taste me, whore.”

“Thank you, Tanyth!” I dropped onto my hands and knees and flicked my tongue against his balls, first tasting the pre that had trickled all the way down there. Then I began sucking on his sack, lightly at first but finally taking it fully into my mouth. I swallowed around it while my lips brushed against his taint and cock.

“Mmmnnnhhh!” he grunted, tugging my hair and shoving my face toward his crotch. He pumped his balls into my mouth and I reveled in it. 

I then took his thighs in my hands and let his scrotum fall, the tip of my tongue grazing his shaft from bottom to top. I licked up all of his pre, but by the time I got to his slit, Tanyth was gasping and another little stream was spilling out of him. I clasped my mouth over his head, sucking down his salty nectar. 

“Hell, Sa’ven, how did you hold back for three days?” chuckled Tanyth. 

I gripped his shaft in my hand and gave him a couple of pumps. A moan brewed in his throat. I glanced up at him and held his inert cock. “I would do anything for you.”

“So stroke me.” I did. The same sort of moan came from his throat, but this time, on the third or fourth pump, it broke past his lips like a gale. “Gods, Sa’ven, my fucking cock…” He couldn’t stop himself. More pre was draining out of him. I had half a mind to deny him for all the torture he’d put my through, but those starry eyes of his won me over. I was helpless. Helpless to stop pleasing him, and helplessly in love with him, I think. 

Despite the way my cock dangled between my legs without touch or friction, it ached. I groaned as I jerked him. Gods. So many thoughts ran through my head. Thoughts of Tanyth fingering my prostate until I was moaning and being milked. Thoughts of him loving me back. Thoughts of Tanyth holding my hair back and rubbing my stomach until I lost control into the pot. Thoughts of him locking me up in that cage for days, _days,_ and the way he eyed me and tried to hide his own erections. Thoughts of him buying me toys and sticking them in my ass and my mouth until I was begging. And that sweet, sweet moan of his, the one he only unleashed when he was about to cum, the moan I was hearing right then as I watched his red, dribbling cock spasm in my hand. He was so hot he couldn’t take it. But where did that leave me, exactly?

About to be in big trouble, that’s where. 

“OH GODS! OH NO!” I wailed, dropping Tanyth and scrambling for my own dick. I reached for it in an attempt to – I dunno – stop myself? But I couldn’t. A _massive_ spurt of cum exploded out of my cock before I could grab it. I let it dangle, unsure of whether or not I should touch myself. I was already cumming, but I hadn’t received permission to. It didn’t really matter either way, though, because I couldn’t stop. I moaned, cum raining onto the bed and the wall and Tanyth’s leathers as my cock jerked of its own volition. I guess three days really was too much. Tanyth’s lips parted and he glared at me as though I had just slapped him across his handsome face. “Mmm, ahhh, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Tanyth…” I was still cumming in droves. 

Tanyth just stared. I had never seen him look so offended in my life. After all, I had just inadvertently denied his orgasm. In fact, that was the only time he didn’t have a witty remark on the tip of that silver tongue of his. He was completely taken aback. 

Finally, he sighed, expression falling. He reached out and began pumping the rest of the cum out of me. As soon as he touched me I bucked. I couldn’t believe I was still going. It was so intense. Overstimulating, even. But just as I thought I was done, he pulled my foreskin down and a long, viscous strand drained onto the bed. I threw my head back and shuddered.

“Is it just cum at this point,” he asked calmly, “or are you actually still having an-”

“Fuck! Don’t! Stop! Ahhh!”

He gave a small laugh and pumped my overstimulated cock. Small trickles of white seeped out of me as I rode the waves to orgasm so hard that I collapsed backward. I panted, even feeling a little ill again. 

“Gods Tanyth…I’m sorry…I didn’t meant to…truly, I-” I begged. So much for being the strong, silent type.

“You’re an asshole.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Still…that was rather enticing to watch, I must confess.” He lied down next to me and gently began stroking my hair. “Honestly, I’ve never seen anyone cum so much in my life.” We lied there in silence, me catching my breath and Tanyth stroking my hair, covered in my mess. A couple minutes later, he added, “I should lock you back in that cage. Or give you a medal.”

I smiled and glanced over at him. I was so caught up in grounding myself that I hadn’t noticed the hard-on in his hands. He was quietly stroking himself. I guess I hadn’t completely ruined his orgasm after all. He was still red and wet, and now, there was a thick strand of pre stretching from his slit to his belly, glistening on his dark, red armor.

I hadn’t watched him for more than a minute or two before my cock stirred. I pressed my knees together.

Tanyth slowly tilted his head back and let out a gasp so soft I nearly couldn’t hear it. His thumb rolled across his slit and picked up some of his wetness, gliding back down his shaft before settling on his balls and massaging the area.

“Tanyth…”

“Mhm?” He gave himself an obsequious pump. 

“May I rub on you?”

He looked a little surprised, but shrugged and said, “You may.” 

I swallowed down some air and turned over onto my hands and knees, hovering over him. I was still naked, and he was still clothed save for the erection spilling out of his fly. First, I gave myself a couple of pumps. I was already semi-there, too, which surprised Tanyth judging by the look on his face. Legs on either side of him, I took my dick in my hand and gently settled my head against his, swatting his hand out of the way and replacing it with my opposite one. Tanyth gave a low, pleasurable rumble.

I held his cock there in my hand, grinding my own head and slit against his; against his wet pre. Feeling how wet I made him made me feel horny all over again. I began rubbing us together. This time, he moaned, “Ah…”

I matched this with a little, “Mmm…” a familiar sensation building in my balls quicker than I knew possible. I had just cum so much, and I had barely had time to rest, but touching him was making me hot and needy. I moved my overstimulated cock against him again. And again. And again. Tanyth was clearly getting built up, but I surpassed him in moments; I was at full erection, head taut and swollen. 

The next time I rubbed my head against him, I pulsed. A little bit of cum – either precum or maybe something left over from last time – oozed out of my slit and down his length. I panted.

“Love?” he gasped, clutching the sheets, face flushed with desire, “Are you close again?”

I nodded frantically.

His lips twitched. “Oh, how you must ache for me, Sa’ven…”

Another nod. I loved the way he felt, loved how verbal he was. “Ohhh…fuck…” I groaned. My hips were moving hard and fast, a deep throb present throughout my entire groin. I was gonna…oh…fuck I was gonna…

He knew. And so he asked, “Do you need it?”

I whimpered. I could hardly hold back. “I need it Tanyth! I’m sorry! I need it again right now!”

“Oh, love…” he moaned, reaching out and cupping both our dicks. He squeezed them together and began stroking. Pumping.

I wasn’t going to be able to hold back, but I knew he wasn’t concerned about denying me any longer. He needed to cum too and he needed it bad. I could tell by the way his cheeks were on fire, breath hitching in his chest, his own needy cock pulsing against mine. 

“Oh!” he wailed, “Oh my love! Yes! Right there! Right there!”

I came with a yelp. I wasn’t sure who came first, me or Tanyth, but hard spurts of cum were shooting into his hand. He used the lubrication to stroke us off in tandem. We moaned and panted and shifted together, hips clashing like thunder as he spent each of our cocks and we were left exhausted, tangled in each other’s arms, falling asleep to the sounds of Trixie next door screaming, 

“EW WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING IN THERE BRYCE?!”


End file.
